The Fire of The Rebellion
by chibichan998
Summary: Salutari, representation of Panem, gets an unusual call one day. It all leads to an unexpected journey with someone he thought didn't even exist anymore. ...I suck badly at summaries. No pairings.
1. Chapter 1

((Disclaimer: I own nothing but Salutari. He's my brain-child with an America on FaceBook.  
>And just so you know, this is from an RP. Salutari is me, and Alfred is Alfred GoldenArches Jones on FaceBook.<br>...Behind Salu's name: Salutari Populo is Latin for 'savior of the people'. Ironic, no?))

Salutari sat in Snow's office, not wanting to hear the news. His mind began to be clouded; the overpowering smell of roses and blood was sickening to him, overpowering most every thought he had. Trying to avoid eye contact with his president, he looked away, fixing a loose strand of his own blonde hair, surveying the room. The plain-coloured walls were adorned with pictures of the Capitol, of the old and new presidents, of Salutari himself, the representation of the country they called home.  
>Finally the president broke the silence, getting straight to the point. "The Mockingjay is starting a war against us. But we could easily wi-" He was cut off on that word by the ringing of a phone.<br>He calmed himself, answering the phone with his normal charismatic voice. "Hello?" He paused for a few seconds before covering the reciever with one hand and holding the phone out to the boy. "It's for you."  
>He had no clue who would be calling: if anyone called him, it was usually a stylist or clothing designer, a party planner, things of that nature. And nobody ever/ called Snow's mansion asking for him. Placing the reciever to his ear, he asked, "H-hello...?"  
>The man on the other end replied, "Hello, brother. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Salutari's eyes widened from fear. It was the one person he had never thought to be alive, who he thought had died years ago, back during the Dark Days when he was thrown out of power. Someone who hadn't been mentioned since the Games began. Alfred, his older brother, America. The fire of the Rebellion.<br>And here he was. Not in flesh, but in voice. His hand trembled so much he almost dropped the phone. He had been wanting to talk to Alfred for years, but, now that he could, he had no idea what to say.

Leaning back in his chair, and resting his feet on top of the desk issued to him in District 13, Alfred drummed his fingers on the edge of his chair. The call was bittersweet for him; he liked being able to call up his younger brother, and be able to have some power back what with the new rebellion, and his little Mockingjay, sent out to destroy the oppressors. The defeat years back that had sent him into ruin, and caused this Panem, his brother, to become the new country, had left him somewhat bitter, and with a taste of what it was like to not be in power after so long.  
>However, he still retained a strong set of beliefs and a kindness to everyone. He didn t like having to war with his newer brother, and everything going on in Panem was not entirely his fault. Nothing you have to say to me, huh, bro? He waited, a smirk growing across his face while he listened to silence on the other end. Snow would just love this. It had been a very long time since he had acknowledged or spoken to his brother. But now the play was back on his side, and he had a chance to be back.<p>

Panem couldn't believe what he was hearing. His brother, who he had thought had been dead and gone for years, was back. All the reasons why and how went through his mind like a tornado. "You? B-but..." He couldn't figure out the questions he would ask; there were too many. Snow gave him a glare, one that meant, 'Say something productive', one he had gotten many times before. The finally recovered his normal cool composure, tugging at the collar of his bright blue, Capitol-style outfit, asking, "What happened to you...?"  
>In truth, he already had a good idea. When the rebels faded, so did Alfred. Now he was back, along with his damn little Mockingjay. But they had her love, and she was in turmoil. He knew this battle would end with the odds in Alfred's favour, though; he could sense it. Panem would be no more. He didn't want to go down without a fight. But would he destroy his own family to do it...?<p>

Alfred took time to stall in speaking, and repositioned himself slowly, to get himself more comfortable. He stretched back in the chair, and let out a yawn. As far as he was concerned, the power was back in his hands, and he could take all the time he wanted to speak. Coming back from the 'dead' had its advantages. "Oh, brother, surely what happened to me isn't important /at all/?" He laughed, and dropped his feet from the desk to the floor, and moved the mouth piece away from his mouth for a few minutes, purposefully stalling again. Why not?' he told himself, 'It's not like he'll hang up. He wants to know what I'm saying.'  
>After letting the minutes dragged on, he put it back to his mouth, and narrowed his eyes. What he wouldn't give to have a one-on-one meeting with his brother... and Snow, for that matter. "Is all well on your part? Hmm? Nothing like... oh, I don't know,a rebellion to trouble you, right? To disrupt your fun little games?"<p>

Salutari froze, scared that Alfred might have hung up. He might never know what was happening. Even though it was his country, he felt like he was always the last to know something. When his brother finally spoke again, he held in a sigh of relief. "I'm sure I'd like to know what happened to the darling brother I thought was dead."  
>As there was another cruel silence, he kept standing there in the small office until Snow gave him a slight nod. Stepping out and into the hallway, he allowed himself to sink to the floor. "Nothing is well until Panem is truly at peace... Until I have a new president, I expect. But none of your little rebels. I'm sure Coin would make a horrible president, if you ask me." He was glad for those rumours now. "This rebellion is just your revenge. You're upset because you lost. And the Games will/ continue, I assure you."

Leaning his head back, so he could glance around the room without seeming suspicious, Alfred frowned, sure that there were some kind of cameras or microphones hidden in the room. "Darling brother, is that what I am now?" He got out of his chair and, inspecting the control board in the room for communications and other vital parts of 13's base, he searched for the one that would shut off anything recording him in the room, and, finding it with superior knowledge of the workings, better than even some of the higher-ups had, he shut them all down.  
>Now, he talked freely and frankly with his brother. "Look, I don't care who takes over Panem when this is over. I want my power back, but, more than that, I want those damn Games ended." He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I will fight even you to restore what used to be mine to normalicy. I will fight to the death if I have to, mark my words." With that, he turned off his communicator, ending the conversation on his word. In a power play, he intended to stay on top. If his brother wanted to talk more, he would just have to call back, wouldn't he?<p>

Salutari knew there were bugs in the phone, but there wasn't a single place or item without one anymore; nobody could be trusted. "Of course, Alfred. We've missed you here." He rested his head on the wall, letting out a sigh. "You know, I'd love to see where you're living now. District 13, correct?" The whole battle there, the so-called 'destruction'... He purposely let a small handful of people ive, but never expected it to end up like this.  
>"Brother..." Every word Alfred spoke stung him. Letting Alfred back into power meant he would have to fade away, die, most likely. It couldn't exactly be called 'greedy', though most anyone in the lesser districts would call it that. "If you want, we could rule the country together-" He was going to continue, but the phone cut off, leaving him in silence and despair. "I don't want to die.. N-not yet.." His hand hesitated over the buttons, wanting to call back, but he didn't want his brother to hear him like this, sobbing, barely able to create words. Forcing himself to stand and wipe away the tears, he weakly staggered back into Snow's office.<p>

He wasn't concerned with what people in the Capitol might hear; Alfred was only concerned with those in 13 learning what he had said. He removed the headset from his ears and let it lay around his neck. He didn't expect his brother to call back, but, deep down, he wished he would. He didn't want it to be this way, but it was what he had to do.  
>His shoulders sinking, he angrily paced around the room, conflicted between his desires: he wanted his power back, he wanted wanted the murders to end, he badly, very very badly, wanted to get his country back. He did not/ lose his rebellions, that was for sure. He was just biding his time until it was right. But, at the same time, he felt a greaty sympathy and affection for his brother, even if it was his brother that threw him out of power like that, destroyed him. In a fit of rage, he ripped the headset from his neck and threw them against the wall with all the force he could muster. "I'm sorry... my brother. I don't want to hurt you like this. I just wish there was some other way to end all this." He sunk to the floor and rested his head against the wall, suddenly feeling drained of all his energy.

The young practically fell into his chair across from Snow. His legs felt heavy, like his flesh was now lead. But as the dial tone was replaced with Alfred's faint voice, he felt life run back into him. Holding the phone back up to his ear, he forced out, "Brother! I'm s-"  
>He was cut off by his president snatching the phone from his hands. "No more," the old man said, and hit the 'end' button, ending Salutari's apology. "There's two sides, Panem. Us and them. They won't win." Panem met his words with a solemn nod and the mutter of, "Yes sir..."<p>

Hearing a faint voice from the headset he had thrown, Alfred lifted his head up, and and turned towards the wall he had throw it at. His brother had called back, then? He quickly dashed to the headset and picked it up, putting the piece to his ear, only to hear his brother's voice get cut off.  
>His eyes narrowed, suddenly irritated at the very idea that his brother had been cut off, obviously by that stupid man, Snow/. He refused to even think of him as 'President' Snow. He was glad he had already made it clear to Coin and the others that he had no intention of being used by them.  
>Calling wasn't doing him any good. He was leaving, right now. He would go to the Capitol, talk to his brother. Get him alone. He didn't give a damn what anyone thought; those in 13 or/ Snow. He was going. He would take one of the jets. He hooked the headset back around his neck and left the room to get everything prepared.

Salutari glared at Snow, wanting to explode, but instead turning and leaving the room with a yell of, "Why!" He ran through the halls of the mansion before ending up near his room, the only one that still had drawings on the door from when he was younger. One of the scribbles was even of his brother and himself, their hair and eyes matching in colour. He stared for a few moments, trying to remember his face, but all that came up was a blonde-haired blur. Salutari finally gave up, ripping the door open and walking inside, practically collapsing onto his bed.  
>"B-brother... I'm sorry I ever did that..." He knew nobody was there to hear him, that nothing would change because of his useless apologies. Salutari heard Alfred's voice again, muttering an apology, and he shot up, only to see a jabberjay flitting near his closet door, next to his green military uniform. He knew he needed to change out of his Capitol attire if his brother was going to be visiting...<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken a while, and he had had to be extra sneaky, but Alfred had managed to sneak away from 13. Now that he was in the Capitol, he stuck out, but he had refused to disguise himself with the Capitol attire.  
>He knew the mansion where his brother lived. and this is where he headed. He knew he couldn't just walk right in, so he would have to find his brother's room by use of the information from 13, a blueprint of the mansion. He glanced up at it now, pinpointing the right room. He snuck closer to the edge of the wall by his brother's room, and hid against it, so he would be harder to spot. Picking up a rock, he threw it up against the window to get his attention.<p>

Salutari buttoned his jacket, looking in the mirror at himself for a moment before walking over to the little bedside table, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a small world map. Across it were written small numbers, 1 through 12, just like the districts. When he heard the tap at his window, he stuffed it into his pocket.  
>He opened the window, not believing what he saw. He wanted to call his brother's name, but knew Peacekeepers would swarm if he did. He blinked again and again, seeing if his eyes trick him, but Alfred still stood there.<br>When he heard the window open, Alfred looked upwards, but kept close to the wall. The last thing he needed was to be spotted. He knew he was taking a huge risk coming here, virtually unprepared and completely random. He couldn't even be sure his brother would welcome him in, or if he would find himself arrested in a matter of seconds.  
>After a few minutes of silence, it became clear his brother wasn't going to do anything to give him away. At least, not yet. He raised his eyebrows and mouthed the words 'What should I do?' to him. Maybe his brother would have a way to sneak him in, saying he had captured him or something, or a secret place they could talk in private.<br>Salutari had absolutely nothing planned; instead, he jumped out the window, his right side slamming into the ground underneath the window. He groaned in pain before sitting up, trying to figure out /why/ he just did that. He sat in silence for a moment before jumping up: somebody would've noticed that and told Snow. "Follow me," he muttered, carefully ducking into the bushes nearby.  
>Alfred stared in surprise when his brother jumped out of the window, and slammed into the ground beside him. He would have said something about it, but he was aware of the danger here, for both of them now. He silently followed his brother, ducking into the bushes with him. Once he was inside, and away from view, he suddenly grabbed and held his brother in a half-nelson, and spoke into his ear, in a whisper, "You have 10/ seconds to convince me that this isn't a trap."  
>When he was sure they were hidden, Salutari let out a sigh. "We're safe for now, alri-" He was cut off by Alfred. "A trap...? I just jumped out a window for you... Why would it be a trap?" He tried to move his brother's arms away, to no avail.<br>Alfred's arms didn't move from their place. He wasn't about to be tricked by his own stupidity in not making sure, brother or not. He had learned a lot. "I do not underestimate the Capitol, or anyone in it." He tightened the grip with a menacing sense of purpose. "Time is running out. Come on."  
>He kept clawing at his brother's arms, but Alfred refused to budge. "I-I'm not like them!" Salutari coughed as the grip tightened more and more, finally choking out, "I regret ever doing that to you... I want Snow out, but I don't want to die...!"<br>Letting him speak his protests for a few minutes, Alfred stayed silent, not moving or speaking during the ordeal. "If you don't want to die, never let me suspect for an instant this was a trap. If you are planning something, you better make it quick, before I can do something." He released his brother, and watched him, sighing. "I'm sorry that I have to take such precautions."  
>Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, his voice a whisper as he said, "Alfred... Please don't kill me... I've missed you..." When he was released, Panem fell to the ground, coughing; his head was spinning from the lack of air he had been suffering from. "I won't hurt you anymore, alright? I never wanted to..." He pulled himself onto his feet again, frowning at his brother. "I expected you to protect yourself, but not like that."<br>Alfred kept his face blank, showing no emotion. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling: anger for what his brother had done, happiness at seeing him again, or pain at what he had to do to keep himself safe. "I'll do what I have to do." He looked away, keeping his eyes on the ground. He didn't want to look at him, to be softened by emotions. "I've been through more wars than you will /ever/ go through, I have seen more than you ever will. I no longer underestimate anyone." He looked back to him, with a small smile. "But that's put that behind us. What now?"  
>"I'm sorry about the past... I had no choice." The young boy's emotions were surfacing, no matter how much he tried to push them away. "Even if it means going against your family..." He stared at his brother, seeing his hair instead of his face. "Could you at least look at me? War may equal experience, but this war will be the greatest the world ever sees..." He forced a smile onto his face. "Of course. It might be better to leave here, one of the other districts, maybe? Someplace safer."<br>"The past is the past, I suppose." His older brother shrugged, as if the past was something he could easily cast off. It wasn't, of course, but he would give the other that impression. He forced himself to keep on smiling, forced himself to put aside his fears that this is was a trap. "I wish that the world will never see a war again." He looked away once more, only being able to stand looking at him for that split second. "I can't take you to..." He frowned, and left it unsaid, even though it was obvious where he stayed, and his brother knew. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, and trust you, this one more time. Which district would be safest?"  
>"If you want to say that... But the rebellion is the present." Salutari refused to glance away for a second; when Alfred would at him once again, he would let his brother see all the pain. "I wanted you to forgive me, but I was never able to talk to you. You think you can stop the rebellion now!" He grabbed his brother's arm. "Please... Just look and see what the rebellion's done to me." He paused, wanting to say more, but shook his head and cleared the negative thoughts from his mind. "12 might be. It's one of the districts that nothing ever changes..."<br>He sat silently through all of his little brother's words, not taking a breath, simply staring at any place but at the child. When he grabbed his arm, his eyes narrowed again, and he reacted instantly, pulling away. In a second, he had gripped his brother's arms, tighter than had been done to him. He leaned closer, and looked him straight in the eyes, with all the emotions he had been trying to repress. "How can I forgive you, with all this going on? Can you forgive me for helping in a plot to destroy you? It's never that easy." He pulled back a few inches, but kept holding on to him. "You want to be away from Snow, don't you? Then this rebellion is necessary. You should be helping us, not /him/."  
>Having said that, he let out his pent up breath, and sat back further. "12, then. Can you get away to 12?" He had known himself which would be the safest: he knew enough about the districts for that, but it had been a test to find out his brother's intentions.<br>Salutari winced from the pain of Alfred's grip, emotions once again bubbling to the surface. "I wish I could, but that's impossible now..." He glanced away, back towards the mansion. "I want the old president back, but he's long gone... And if I join the rebellion, I'll die."  
>He tried to move his brother's hands away, but Alfred would always be stronger. Panem would lose to the rebellion, no matter what tricks could be tried. "What district would you/ go to?"  
>Alfred didn't release his grip, and met his brother's eyes, not looking away. His eyes stayed narrowed, and his grip stayed just as strong. "So, you're just going to sit back and let Snow do all of this, just because you might/ die?" He frowned, and dropped his brother's arms, looking away again, away from the mansion, and him. "There are other ways, you wouldn't necessarily be destroyed." He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I wouldn't go to any of them if I had a choice. 12, since that isn't an option."  
>He glanced back at Alfred, only to find that he wasn't even looking anymore. "No. I could get Snow out myself... But I need someone's help." As soon as his arms were free, he wrapped them around his brother in a tight hug. "We should put the past behind us. Just for now." After noticing what he was doing, he released his brother. "Er... I think 12 would be fine for now. Unless you want to go back to 13."<br>"That's what I was..." Alfred's words were cut short by the sudden hug, that he wasn't expecting. His initial reaction was sudden alarm, thinking it was a attack of some kind, a threat, but then, a sideways glance at his brother told him otherwise. But by the time he realized it was a simple hug, and not a attack, Salutari had released him. "...offering," he finished, his attention back on his brother, and this time, for once, he didn't look away. "I'm not sure if 13 would be safe for you, and considering I had to sneak away to come here...I think it would be best to stay away." He smiled, a genuine smile this time, something he hadn't done in a long time.  
>Without waiting for a response from him, America wrapped his arms around his brother, but this time in a friendly manner, holding him in a tight hug; something he had wanted to do for a while. He didn't release him, either. "Consider the past safely behind us."<br>A smile grew on Salutari's face. "Maybe you can help me, then. And the rebellion will be over." By now he was certain that everyone knew he was gone. "13 could be safe, if I was able to change into the uniform I got..." The sound of boots against the cobblestones proved his assumption. "W-we should get going-"  
>He was cut off by his brother's embrace. "A-Alfred..." A grin formed on his face and he returned the hug. "Just like old times."<br>The sound of boots against stones caught his attention, but it only made him hold tighter to his younger brother, instead of letting go to escape. "How can I help, exactly?" he whispered, peering out as best he could from between the bushes, "I'm not sure if those in 13 would be entirely happy with you."  
>Alfred's grin grew, despite the danger surrounding them both right now. "It will be just like old times we can get rid of all of this mess, brother. Let's get to work."<br>As a small group of Peacekeepers passed by, Salutari froze, not even breathing. When they were finally gone, he let out a sigh. "I-I'm not sure..." Glancing between the leaves, he saw that another group were growing closer. "I'll gladly go anywhere but here right now."  
>The younger boy wriggled out of his brother's embrace. "Just like old times..." He moved farther into the bushes, away from the commotion.<br>Alfred copied his brother when the Peacekeepers passed the bushes they were hiding in, and held his breath, not making a sound. "However I can, just...let me know." He followed after the other, sneaking farther down into the bushes, to avoid being seen by the Peacekeepers. "Agreed. Where can we get to the easiest? I don't think it is advisable to use some obvious method out..."  
>"I'll need your help in the end. I'll let you or your Mockingjay kill Snow." Panem crept through the woods before moving out into the streets for a moment before ducking into the closest apartment, signalling for Alfred to follow.<br>Alfred nodded, and followed after his brother, sneaking just as carefully down the streets, and into a nearby apartment. He took a quick look around the place, and stopped a minute to listen any sounds of someone approaching it. "I hope this place is abandoned..."  
>As he felt that his brother was safe for once, Salutari let out a sigh. "It's not. But whoever lives here isn't home." He wandered through the house, searching for a closet. "Well, you need a disguise to get out, Alfred..."<br>"Works for me," Alfred said, speaking in a low voice, abandoned place or not. He followed after his brother further into the house, not about to left behind so near the entrance. "Cool, a disguise! Let's find one, then!"  
>Salutari threw a bright-coloured outfit, along with a pair of hot pink glasses, to Alfred. "This'll work for now," he mumbled, continuing to look through the closet, scanning for something that would even slightly fit his tastes.<br>Alfred blinked, and caught the brightly colored garments, frowning as he caught the hot pink glasses. "Really? I have to wear..." He held the clothes up to his body, his frown increasing. "-/this/." He scooted closer, and peered into the closet himself. "You guys are weird, okay?"  
>Panem moved farther into the almost-neverending closet. "Unless you choose something." He popped his head out, a blue star tattoo on his cheek. "There's quite a bit in here. Want to look?" Pulling a lime green turtleneck off one of the hangers, he stepped out.<br>America followed after him, shifting through the many articles of clothing, not finding one that would suit him. "Ehh...I'll just wear there for now, whatever..." He stepped after him, frowning distastefully at the clothes. "I will never understand why you wear there, though."  
>"We're much better off than the districts~" Salutari smiled, pulling the turtleneck on. "We can afford to get the high-end clothing from the best designers around here! Unlike 13... Everything's so plain." He stopped himself there, remembering who he was talking to. "S-sorry... Habit."<br>"That's an excuse for wearing such ridiculous clothing?" Alfred raised an eyebrow and pulled the brightly colored outfit on. He put his arms over his chest, irritated at having to wear these clothes, and the idea that some people actually liked to wear them. "No problem. Not at all." Despite saying that, his frown increased, and he sighed. "Let's just get a move on, shall we?"  
>"Exactly~" He turned to face Alfred and grinned. "You look great, brother!" Noticing his brother's annoyance, his face became neutral again. "Alfred..." He took his brother's hand and began pulling him to the door, like a little child would do. "To 12~"<br>"Of course I do..." He let himself be pulled to the door, the frown on his face lightening up a little at the behavior of his brother. It forced him to remember that despite everything, Salutari was his /younger/ brother. He grinned again, annoyingly flamboyant clothes or not. "Yes! To 12! Let's go!"

((Will this ever be finished? I have no clue. I'm waiting for a reply from Alfred.))


End file.
